Temptations
by Mary Antoinette
Summary: Ever since he's found his revenge, Sasuke has found no reason to live. His life has been one blank day-afterday experience. Finally, it's Naruto who pushes him over the edge. Rated for NARUSASU, Char. Death, and YAOI.


**Disclaimer: **  
**I HATE DISCLAIMERS!!!! D:**

**But I don't own Naruto....**

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_"I can give in to nothing but my own temptation..." ~Ocar Wilde_

"How are you doing, Naruto?" I asked quietly, barely above a whisper, for that was all my voice could muster. My voice was scratchy, and I haven't used it in weeks because every moment of every day, I feel the overwhelming desire to break down and grieve over something; anything. This desire to feel pain scared me; no, it _terrified_ me. I just wished I wasn't so sick… Or at least I feel sick. Maybe I'm not? ...I don't know; I just wish I could feel something in my life. Anything; It doesn't even have to be a good feeling; it could be anger, resentment, just _something_ to get rid of that _nothing_ that resides inside of me.

"Fine, you? I noticed you haven't really been putting out during training very recently. Hell, I haven't even seen you anywhere outside training recently! What's up? What's going on -" This is what he'd say to me each time he came over. It was like a public speech he'd written on the back of his hand because he knew he'd need it again. He didn't trust me to get better. _He doesn't believe in me_, would suit this situation better.

"Because I know there's something wrong, but I don't know what to do to fix it if you don't tell me, and you haven't spoken to anyone in months unless you're greeting them-" he continues. I only ever catch snippets of what he's actually saying, because the load of crap that spews from his mouth is more than I need to hear, and now that he's said it so many times, it's been harder to believe in his voice. He's not worried about me, he just thinks he is, and he doesn't want to fix it – whatever it is – he just wants to know what's wrong. Everyone does. We all want to know the inside scoop, but once we figure it out, we just sort of… forget it.

"I can see you don't want to tell me anything about this subject, so how about something else? Have you finished learning that jutsu we were learning the other day? Well, knowing you, you've probably learned it right when sensei taught it to us, but I just ant to know, you know?" he finally stops talking and looks at me. My hands continue to move while I'm polishing my kunai, and it's like an obsession. I polish my kunai endlessly, and he comes over every day to see if I'm okay, because maybe he feels bad for bringing me back to Konoha. I'm probably not as interesting as he thought I'd be.

"Do you need help? You're always polishing kunai, it's like you have a secret stash somewhere that no one knows about!" he tried to lighten up the mood with his lame joke and broad grin, but I held steadfast to my indifferent expression. He seemed a little pot down by this because his smile slowly dropped.

He sighed quietly and looked away. I'd stopped scrubbing by then and stared at the sharp metal in my hands, transfixed. I knew what would happen next. He would pretend to love me. Maybe he thinks I need it, but little does he know, that his efforts are the last thing I need right now. He makes me hate him more everyday after he leaves my house, and I always end up regretting my life, and it scares me how badly I want to end it the next morning, because when he leaves abruptly, I suddenly realize why he brought me here, and why he pretends to care so much.

He probably thinks I'll be more _responsive_ when I'm happier. He probably thinks he'll get better use out of his new _toy_, when I'm happier. After all, toys are meant to brighten up your day, not dull it down.

He grabs both of my hands inside his and gently sets down the kunai I was holding onto. I follow him as he leads me to my bedroom silently. I knew that if I consented, then he'd leave faster, that if I cried, he'd stop to take care of me, but that would only delay what was to come, because every day, this was inevitable, and that's why I hated him. Because if I cried, it would only delay him, if I remained totally blank, he'd be harsher, and if I fought, he'd force me. He was a man with a mission, and nothing would deter him.

He even told me he loved me at the end to get me to comply more, and for half a day, I returned that feeling, and believed him, but then he said the same thing the next day, and the next day, and the next day, so suddenly, those sacred words meant nothing to me.

I'd barely noticed when he'd pushed me back on the bed and tilted my head to the side to expose my neck. I was just so used to it, and it felt so wrong to not fight back, but I felt nothing, not even motivation or will power. I was nothing.

He pulled down the neck of my shirt a little and abused my collarbone. He nipped and sucked until an angry, red mark had appeared, and then he moved up, littering hickies all up and down my neck. He always loved doing this, marking me.

He brought his hands down to my hips and rubbed slow, soothing circles on them before he raised my shirt up slowly over my head. He made sure to brush his fingers against my skin as he did so, and eyes me hungrily once the garment was thrown across the room.

He squeezed my hips, then right above my hip bones, and then my stomach, each separate rib, my nipples; he squeezed every part of my body, and enjoyed the feel of it under his fingertips. He told me he likes he way I feel beneath his hands, and that he just can't get enough of me.

He attaches his mouth onto one of my now-hardened nipples and sucks fervently. Once in a while I could feel his teeth graze the tip, but I never really cared enough to notice before he'd moved on to the next one and performed the same treatment as before.

He spent a lot of time on my upper body, and kissed every inch of it, it felt like; he even went so far as to stick his tongue in my belly button a few times, but soon he'd made his way down to the hem of my shorts. He licked right above the seam before bringing his hands up and roughly yanking them down with my underwear and completely exposing me. I shivered slightly at the sudden bout of cool air, but other than that, continued to remain unresponsive.

I covered my arms across my bare chest and waited. I looked to the side, because I never wanted to see this part, and I knew it would break me if I did, but I could still feel it.

He licked all the way up and down my shaft and ran his nails abusively up and down the sides of my legs and thighs. I guessed it might have been his way of marking me again, but then again, it also may have been his way of contracting an emotion out of me. I did say it was rougher when I remained emotionless…

He nipped on the tip of the head, and moved all the way up from my lower regions and up to my face.

"Look at me." He'd say, and at first I'd always resist, but then he'd force my chin forward, and I'd have nothing else _to_ look at but him. It's like a torture method to have to face your worst fear, except Naruto wasn't who I feared; He was who I loathed with all my being. That's right, I hated Naruto Uzumaki. I hated him for what he did to me, and what he still does. No, I'm not talking about the sex, but just him overall. He knows he's killing me emotionally, but if he gets pleasure out of everything he does to me, then he'll do it anyway.

"I love you." He says hen he finally turns my head to face him, and God, I just want to cry so badly, but the tears won't come out. Not that I'd let them. I want him gone, out of here, not hovering over me with false sympathy.

"Okay." I tell him simply, and I wonder, did my voice really sound that broken. A hideous emotion crosses his face for a split second, but I know I've imagined it because how could someone so cruel harbor such an emotion? It wasn't possible. Naruto couldn't feel hurt, he could only fake it, and there was no way I could've seen that haunted look pass over his eyes, because he roughly brought my legs up to my chest and slammed into me dry. I barely felt myself being forced into the painful position as I screamed out in agony. All I felt was the splitting pain in my backside from being entered dry, and the pain in my chest because I just felt so horrible and used right now.

He slammed into me ruthlessly, and my heart-wrenching screams dulled down into small, choked sobs each time he pushed back into me. I folded my hands into the futon to try to distract myself from outside events, but nothing worked. I still noticed every time he pushed in and hit my prostate, or when he unintentionally moved his thrusts away from my sweet spot in his whirl of ecstasy.

But all things must come to an end, and it wasn't long before he reached his climax and pulled out slowly. He always wanted to make it last, whether for his pleasure, or my torture, I really wasn't sure, but he always lengthened everything, it seemed, even by milliseconds.

He flopped ungracefully down by my side, and I turned away from him sharply, ignoring the warning growl as I did so. He didn't do anything though, and neither did I went he possessively wrapped a strong arm around my waist and chest and pulled me to him. His breathing evened out shortly after that, but I didn't care. I was still wide awake, and a little cylindrical bottle presented itself within my vision.

It was a pill bottle; sleeping pills. I always told myself I would do it one night. I told myself that one night, I would gain the strength that it took to just unscrew that bottle and pop six or seven of those pills all at once, but I never did. I always backed out in the end, because I didn't see the point, but now… Now things were more clear than they'd ever seemed to be before as I reached my hand out towards the bottle slowly, but my hand was quickly slapped down, and I was rushed onto my back and straddled by the man laying next to me.

"Are you out of your mind?! What were thinking about doing just now?!!" he practically yelled in my face. I shrunk back a little at the tone. He sounded so angry. Was he really that desperate for sex?

"I couldn't sleep." I said simply, and it was true, but it didn't explain everything, which was what I was going for.

He snarled warningly at me, "You don't need pills to sleep! Just go to sleep right here; you have me, don't you?" he asked, his anger slowly fading away near the end until his voice seemed purely inquisitive. It was like he was asking me a life or death question. I didn't know what would set him off, so I didn't answer. He sighed and sat himself on the edge of the bed. He grabbed a hold of the pill bottle and popped a small white pill out before bringing the bottle over to the toilet and pouring them all out.

"There. One pill, that's all you'll need." He said once he came back, and placed the one measly pill into my hand. Was he really this intent on torturing me?

I held the pill in my hand and flipped over on my side, facing away from him, and I cried. I think he heard me because he began planting kisses all on the back of my neck and rubbing his hand along my stomach as soothing gestures. This only made me cry harder and I clutched the small pill tighter before dropping it. One pill wasn't enough to kill me, so why bother?

"W-Why are you d-doing this to me-e?" I asked in-between sobs.

"Because I love you." Another kiss, and I stopped crying a little bit. I grabbed the hand caressing my belly and dug my nails into it until it retracted.

"Fuck you." I said between clenched teeth, "I hate you!" I said with all the venom I could muster in my voice. God it felt good, though.

"I _fucking_ hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I -" I sobbed, "can't even describe how much I hate you. Words don't seem to be enough." I hiccoughed brokenly, and I just wanted to die so bad right then and there; it was unbearable, suffocating.

He gasped a little. I don't think I would've heard it if I hadn't been purposefully searching for his reaction. I wanted to know if I was hurting him like he was hurting me.

He pulled me back against his chest in a bone-crushing grip that made it difficult to breathe.

"Let go of me! Let-go!" I pounded my fists against the hands that bound me to him, but he was just stronger than me. He always was.

"NO!" he yelled out loud, and I didn't stop struggling until his grip literally made it impossible to breathe, "You're MINE! Do you hear that, Sasuke? You're MINE! I love you! No one else, got that? I don't care if you hate me, but if that's what it takes to show you my love, then so be it."

He took hold of my hips in a bruising grip and slammed me back onto him. I yelled again and tried to squirm away from his hold, even though I knew my efforts were futile. I let out a choked, broken scream each time he raped me, and my sobs were drowned out to him by the grunts and sobs his own body was producing.

He climaxed again, and pulled out of me.

It didn't feel like enough to just say that I'd cried. It felt like so much more; like I was pouring out every bit of frustration into my tears, and they wouldn't stop because, like I said, crying never seemed to be enough anymore. Because crying wouldn't fix anything. This situation was too big to just let through small, salty droplets.

"You think you're suffering," I heard Naruto speak out through his sobs, "What about me? I have to _watch you_ suffer. Have you ever watched the one you love suffer, and know that you couldn't do anything about it without leaving them? It would kill me to leave you…"

I blink at his words, even though I don't think I should believe them for a second.

"I mean, please, Sasuke, if you'd just give me a chance – I mean, I don't even know why you hate me, but -" he stopped and sighed, "I'm sorry. Seriously." I just ignored him and detached his arm from around my waist.

"Where are you going?" he asked me gently, quietly.

I don't answer him until I find myself in the doorway to the bathroom.

"I hate you." I said, and shut the door, leaning back on it. I was still crying, and the tears were sliding down the sides of my face into my hair as I silently wept. I stared at the ceiling, unblinking. I think, now, that I could have stayed there forever, but thinking back on it, my actions next were pretty dumb.

After all, the only thing I accomplished was to bring my suffering to heaven.

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**OH GAWD, SASUKE, NOOO!! D:**

**Well, despite the fact that I just totally killed off another character and, well, included rape in ANOTHER fanfic, I think this came out pretty okay.**

**But if it bothers you that much, I will "console" you by telling you that I didn't actually write the death scene :D**

**Did that help? :D**

**No? D:**

**Oh well... Read and Review anyway! :DDD**


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